


Count On Me

by st4rlabsforever (omaken)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Hunk and Keith are Introverts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 04:03:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9959891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omaken/pseuds/st4rlabsforever
Summary: It’s not until a couple of weeks after the Weblum incident that Hunk realizes how much time he and Keith have been spending together lately.Or, rather, it’s not really spending time together per se, just that Keith seems to always wind up wherever Hunk is in the evenings, whether he’s cooking up a late night snack in the kitchen or lounging in the common room with a bowl of Altean cracklepops and a movie.





	

It’s not until a couple of weeks after the Weblum incident that Hunk realizes how much time he and Keith have been spending together lately. Or, rather, it’s not really spending time together _per se_ , just that Keith seems to always wind up wherever Hunk is in the evenings, whether he’s cooking up a late night snack in the kitchen or lounging in the common room with a bowl of Altean cracklepops and a movie.

And it’s not like the two of them really talk. Mostly, it’s Keith giving a nod of acknowledgement and hopping onto the counter, content to pass Hunk various cooking implements as needed. Other times, he sprawls out on his favorite corner of the couch. Hunk’s not entirely sure how long Keith’s _had_ a favorite spot on the couch, and he’s doubly uncertain when he started realizing these things about Keith.

As it is, the two of them are comfortable with letting the evenings pass in silence, and Hunk doesn’t see any reason to break the peace. It’s kind of nice, actually. He gets on well enough with Lance and Pidge and Coran, extroverts as they are, but prolonged contact with them is just...exhausting.

One night, Keith is fiddling with the Galra blade again, and Hunk figures this is his opening.

“Hey,” Hunk says, breaking the silence. It’s significant enough that Keith gives him his full attention.

 _Keep it together_ , Hunk tells himself. This isn’t a big deal – just common decency and letting out something that’s been stewing for weeks now.

“I’m sorry for doubting you,” Hunk says earnestly. “It - it doesn’t make any difference to me if you’re Galra or not. It’s pretty cool, actually.”

Keith blinks, then gives a small, toothless grin. “It’s okay.” He squeezes Hunk’s shoulder in a firm grip, and Hunk lets himself relax. Just like that.

When they settle into this week’s Altean soap opera they have no hope of understanding, Hunk makes a few quips at the expense of the pointy-eared actors and even gets a few laughs out of Keith.

*

Things shift imperceptibly after that. Hunk finds himself more loose-lipped around his fellow paladin. For the most part, it’s just him narrating his actions in the kitchen and Keith listening with rapt attention as Hunk explains how to use the various tools. The one time Keith tries his hand at cooking something – some grotesque variation on pizza, it looks like – the two of them collectively decide on the spot that Keith should never touch a stove again.

“I don’t get how you find that fun,” Keith says, scrunching his nose.

Hunk beats the dough with his knuckles, doing his best to salvage the catastrophe Keith created. “It’s soothing, man.”

“But...how?”

“It’s like, I don’t have to really think about it, you know? It keeps my mind busy.”

Keith’s legs dangle over the countertop, kicking gently at the drawers beneath him. He leans down and squishes a piece of dough, and the dubious expression on his face is hilarious.

Hunk snorts. “You all are so lucky you have me to cook for you all the time.”

“True, I guess.” Keith still has a scowl on his face, but it’s not directed at Hunk, it’s directed at the pizza crust as if it’s somehow personally offended him. “How long ‘till it’s ready?”

“Twenty minutes. Thirty, tops.”

“I’ll set the table, then.” He swings his legs over the side of the countertop and goes off to do his thing.

For Hunk the routine is nice, and he’s beginning to learn that Keith, too, is a creature of habit. It’s just the two of them on these weekly-but-now-more-like-twice-a-week late night cooking sessions. Hunk can’t really put his finger on it, and Keith would have been the _last_ person whose company Hunk would have found himself enjoying at three ticks past midnight, but somehow the two of them get along better than PB &J.

And Keith doesn’t help with the cooking, but he always volunteers to do the dishes and he’s got a knack for tinkering with the appliances, fixing them whenever they give out (often).

Other nights, Hunk finds himself watching Keith train in the simulation room. He’d thought it was an intensely private affair for Keith given how many times the red paladin had kicked Lance out for trying to watch, but when Keith invites Hunk down with him one night, Hunk just shrugs and follows along wordlessly.  

It’s incredible, really, how disciplined Keith is. A thin sheen of sweat covers his forehead as he bounces swiftly from foot to foot, making quick work of the not-quite-holographic training dummies.

“You could join me,” Keith says, barely even panting as he wipes off his face. “We could work on some team-building exercises.”

Hunk nearly chokes on thin air. “Me?”

“I thought we worked pretty well together when we got those crystals.”

There’s a glimmer in Keith’s eyes. He’s practically rearing to go again, and Hunk finds himself...maybe not hesitating, but – okay, he’s totally hesitating. It’s not that Hunk is necessarily _bad_ at combat – he can hold up his part of Voltron just fine _thank you very much_ , and what he lacks in speed and technique, he makes up for in raw strength. But this is _Keith_. Star prodigy of the garrison who’s managed to impress _Shiro_ week after week, who Lance _still_ won’t stop resentfully muttering about even though their days as cadets are over.

So yeah, Hunk’s comfortable enough around Keith these days, but he’d rather forgo the embarrassment. Besides, he’s not exactly sure what Keith possibly has to gain from working out with his uncoordinated self.

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea…” Hunk says, and hopes Keith gets his drift.

“Oh, come on. Why not?”

No such chill today, apparently. Keith sheathes his sword and makes his way over to Hunk’s perch on the sidelines. And he’s looking expectantly at Hunk like there’s no way he’s taking ‘no’ for an answer.

Hunk sighs. “Because I’m...me,” he gestures at his body, “and you’re you.”

Keith frowns, his entire body stilling. “What?” He looks lost, too, bless him.

“Come on, you’re really gonna make me say it?”

Still nothing. Keith’s eyebrows scrunch together, but it’s not the usual disgruntled look he reserves for Lance or the dispassionate judgment he directs at Coran’s antics – it’s genuine confusion.

“It’s not exactly like I can keep up with you, dude,” Hunk says, then quickly adds, “I mean, it’s like know your strengths, right? I’m good with the mechanical stuff and I can give backup, but the rest of you guys are better at the fighting thing.”

Hunk tells himself he’s not embarrassed, tells himself it’s really not a big deal, but there’s a flustered heat that creeps up his cheeks and he’s well aware of the sheepish way he rubs the back of his neck.

“But that’s not true,” Keith says. “Let’s just give it a try. Please?”

Dammit. Keith just sounds so damned earnest, and the puppy-dog eyes aren’t helping. Not in the slightest.

Hunk sighs with long-suffering exasperation. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Keith lights up like a firecracker. It’s honest-to-god the most excited Hunk’s ever seen him, and there’s no backing out now.

It turns out that Keith can talk for hours on end. Hand-to-hand combat, one-on-one strategies, the finer details of swordsmanship – all of it lights a fire in his eyes, makes him come alive with a barely restrained energy that’s as zealous as it is infectious. The most surprising part, though, is probably how considerate Keith is about it all. It’s not just a one-sided conversation. Keith subtly shifts the topic to the finer aspects of swordplay and cannon support, and before Hunk knows it they’re brainstorming better ways to play off of Hunk’s ranged attacks.

And then they get into tinkering with Hunk’s bayard cannon, and the entire night passes faster than Hunk can say ‘quiznak.’ They don’t even really get around to that much training, but there are plans laid out for the next night. It’s probably the first time ever that Hunk’s actually been excited for simulations. Huh, go figure.

*

“You gotta tell me how you’re doing it, dude.”

Lance slides onto the couch next to Hunk and casts surreptitious glances over at Keith, who’s deep into conversation with Shiro over the exacting details of Galran fighter ship formations or whatever it was adrenaline junkies like them talked about..

“Doing what?” Hunk asks.

“Getting Keith to be friends with you. I’m been trying, like, every single day, but it’s like I’m invisible.”

Hunk scratches his head. “I dunno. It just kind of...happened.”

“But then how – uh, Keith?”

Keith gives a little wave, perfectly cordial, then turns his entire attention to Hunk. “So I was thinking about some new tactics for the level five sim tonight. We’re definitely gonna beat it this time.”

Lance’s jaw drops.

“Sure thing, buddy.” Hunk claps him heartily on the back. And just like that, Keith says goodbye and saunters off to wherever he goes in his free time.

“You _train_ with Keith?! He doesn’t even let me near the sim room when he’s training.”

“It’s...a thing we do sometimes,” Hunk says, still staring after Keith’s retreating form, then more quizzically, “did he just come over here to tell me how excited he was for training?”

“ _Dude_. Take me with you.”

“Ah…” It’s not really that Keith’s got anything against Lance – although _yes_ , extended talk with the blue paladin is especially tiring for Keith – it’s just their personalities mesh like oil and water on a good day.

“C’mon, you gotta let me join you guys.” Lance is all up in his personal space like his life depends on it, and Hunk, chump as he is, spends the next hour trying to explain to him that Keith doesn’t hate him.

*

Hunk decides to spend his Saturday evening training alone. The sessions with Keith are actually fun, but he’s well aware that Keith’s the one pulling most of the weight. And Hunk wants to get better, he really does, it’s just kind of an overwhelming task to do alone. He could ask Keith for help – wouldn’t even be embarrassed to at this point – but he just...doesn’t. Call it stubbornness or pride or whatever vanity Hunk was susceptible to despite claiming otherwise.

He dodges a few blasts that the simulation dummy sends his way. Easy work, but this is still level one. When level two rolls around he’s sweating profusely, completely on the defensive as the swarm of laser blasts overwhelms him. How the hell did Keith make level five look so easy? Unfortunately, resenting Keith for his perfect technique means Hunk’s not paying nearly as much attention as he should to the task at hand, which is how he finds himself flat on his back as one of the sim dummies knocks his feet out from under him.

“Oww.”

Hunk blinks the stars from his vision and has to shake his head at first because that’s _definitely_ Keith staring down at him.

“Now that didn’t go very well,” Keith says, extending a hand and pulling Hunk to his feet.

Hunk dusts himself off. “Please tell me you didn’t see all of that.”

“‘Fraid so.”

Hunk sighs. Figures.

“It’s not all that bad,” Keith says evenly, and Hunk has no idea if he’s referring to technique or that Hunk should only be partially mortified, not completely.

“Right. So…” Hunk’s not sure what he’s supposed to say here. On the one hand, the idea of continuing to train with an audience is nerve wracking, but on the other hand, this is _Keith_ , and it’s not like he hasn’t already seen Hunk’s complete and utter lack of skill.

“I could help,” Keith says quietly.

The two of them stand in silence for a minute while Hunk weighs the idea...until he throws caution to the wind and decides to stop overthinking every single little detail. Yes, he’s got some insecurities, but so what? He’s got to own up to them sometime, and one-on-one with Keith seems safe...ish. Keith wouldn’t laugh at him. Probably.

“Alright, sure.”

Keith grins, looking thoroughly gruntled and pleased before his expression shifts to something more serious. “Okay, so I’ve never actually mentored anyone before, but Shiro was my mentor and I think I can be pretty good at this,” Keith says, rambling a mile a minute.

“You’re the boss,” Hunk says, and follows Keith over to the training mats.

“So you’ve got to play to your strengths more. It’s like you said, right? The reason you keep getting knocked down is because you try to go toe-to-toe but can’t keep up.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“No, that’s not what I – !” Keith scrubs a hand over his face, pouting then quickly reanimating again. It’s like the more they talk about combat, the more energetic Keith becomes. In a word, it’s crazy. “I just meant: it’s okay if you’re not faster. I mean, me? I’m fast but can’t hit hard to save my life. You’re the opposite, so I think it’s just a matter of conserving your energy and striking hard when the right moment presents itself.”

Hmm. He supposes Keith’s got a good point.

“Why don’t you try level two again?” Keith hops up to one of the support beams on the sidelines. “I’ll be right here with you.”

Hunk sighs again. It’s going to be a long night.

*

“Happy Birthday!”  Hunk shouts. He slides the cupcake (complete with sparkling candle) to Keith, who just stares at it in bewilderment like it might hold the mysteries of the universe. Or maybe like it might bite his face off. It’s even odds what he’s thinking.

“It’s not my birthday…” Keith finally says, eyebrows knitting together like they always do when he’s lost for words.

“Eh, details, details. Everyone has a birthday.”

“But I don’t know when mine is,” Keith points out.

And Hunk decides to head him off before the conversation veers into his tragically mysterious backstory. “Nonsense. That doesn’t mean you can’t celebrate it, so that’s why I’m officially declaring today your birthday, Keith Kogane.”

It was easier for the rest of the paladins, being that they could at least remember when their birthdays were. Then, it was just a simple matter of matching up the Altean calendar to Earth’s and marking the dates. But Keith? He’s gone almost his entire life without knowing when his birthday is, and Hunk really can’t stand for that.

“You can’t just make up a birthday…” Keith says, but doesn’t sound very convinced of it.

“Why not? I even figured out how to replicate that key lime frosting you said you loved.”

Keith’s eyes widen and he licks his lips a little, which is how Hunk knows he’s got him hook, line and sinker.

“I guess...I mean, I guess it couldn’t hurt to celebrate today.”

“See! Treating yourself isn’t so bad,” Hunk teases.

Keith rolls his eyes, but blows out the candle and peels the foil off the cupcake anyway.

“Oh, wait. I could get the others if you want a more traditional celebration. We could sing happy birthday – all that good stuff.”

“No!” Keith all but shouts looking extremely panicked. “Don’t do that! I just – no singing, please. Just us is good.”

“Hey, no need to tell me. I understand.” The birthday gatherings for each paladin (and Allura and Coran, but the Altean calendar was apparently thrice as short as Earth’s, so they’ve celebrated twice theirs many times over already) have just been so traditional that Hunk had resigned himself to the boisterous singing and celebrating.

More and more these days, Hunk has realized how much of an introvert he really is. Hanging out with Keith has only made that realization all the more acute, and Hunk knows he’s always been one to hide his discomfort with big groups behind a goofy demeanor and self-deprecating jokes, but being friends with Keith is...it’s been nice. He doesn’t have to hide. He doesn’t have to make excuses for why he’s not in the mood to hang out, nor does he have to feel like the odd one out when he does.

Keith slices the cupcake in half, offering the other portion to Hunk. “Thank you. I mean it.” His eyes crinkle at the edges, and Hunk knows he’s sincere.

*

Lance grates on his nerves as much as he does Keith’s, if Hunk’s being honest. Most of the time, Hunk’s used to Lance’s eccentricities and antics, but this is so much more than that. And Hunk can see that it’s coming from a place of ignorance, but that’s no excuse for his behavior tonight.

“There’s a class 3 warship headed towards Pollux,” Allura says.

“Woo hoo,” Lance shouts. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m totally ready to kick some Galra butt. I mean, just kidding…” He trails off the last part in a conspiratorial whisper, side-eyeing Keith.

Lance being Lance, he’s just trying to patch up the awkwardness with his own brand of humor. Hunk knows it’s coming from a good place, but the way Keith blushes and stares at his own feet tells him Lance has fallen far short of the mark. None of the others really seem to know what to say either, which is how Hunk knows he’s got to step in.

“Would you lay off already, dude? Keith’s sitting right next to you. The least you could do is treat him like an actual human being. All of you, you’re just gonna sit there and act like he’s some – some exotic zoo animal that might spook if you say the wrong thing.” And if he’s shouting by the end, it’s because this has been going on ever since the team found out Keith was half-Galran.

It’s not that Hunk thinks he himself is completely innocent, but after the trip to the Weblum, he’d figured out real quick that Keith was still the same old guy he’d known from the start and it was on Hunk to combat the implicit biases lurking in the corners of his mind. The others, though? It’s been months of them tiptoeing around Keith, not entirely sure how to act around him but having no qualms with not-so-subtly referring to him as if he’s not even in the room.

The only one who’s even treated him remotely normally is Shiro, but even he seems at a loss for how to approach the situation, though he does nod along approvingly once Hunk finishes his tirade.

Lance’s lips are parted in a small ‘o.’ Coran peevishly scratches the back of his head. Allura can’t even make eye contact with him. And Keith – the man in question – stares at him like he’s never seen anything quite like him before.

The meeting ends shortly after Lance quietly apologizes to Keith. Hunk’s about to apologize, too. Keith hasn’t said a word. He looks slightly mortified, and Hunk figures maybe it wasn’t okay to draw attention to him like that.

But then he crashes into Hunk, gripping him in a tight hug that leaves him breathless. Apparently, it was the right decision after all.

*

Even during their mentoring sessions, Hunk quickly discovers that Keith can be less than completely serious. It starts when Hunk, tired and _so completely done_ with getting swept on his feet every ten seconds, sweeps his leg out in a wide arc and trips Keith.

Technically, it’s cheating. Keith might have had his back turned to him, and it might have been an unspoken rule that the round ends after the first man loses his footing. But Hunk prefers to call it character building. Technically. He’s just making sure Keith is in the best possible shape for the upcoming battles against the Galra Empire, and that totally includes dishonest sneak attacks.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?” Keith bounds back on his feet with manic energy, a sly smile firmly stretching across his face.

Hunk pulls himself up. Then, he blinks and suddenly, he’s on his back again and Keith’s on top of him, straddling his hips and grinning like a loon.

And Hunk’s not entirely sure why he does it – maybe because he’s pretty much all out of options, or maybe he just thinks it’d be hilarious if he beats Keith like this – but he reaches his free hand up to Keith’s side and scribbles his fingers up and down.

“Ack!”

The effect is instantaneous. Keith flails and promptly topples off of Hunk, choking out a high-pitched squeal, which Hunk takes as his cue to ramp up his assault.

“Wh-what are you doing?!”

Hunk laughs along with him. “Dude, you’re totally ticklish.”

When Keith manages to get himself far out of reach, residual giggles still coursing through him, Hunk adds, “this is a very serious weakness, Keith. Does Shiro know about this? It could compromise the entire team, you know.”

But Keith, bless his heart, just looks concerned.  Or maybe constipated.

“So, is everyone ticklish…?” he says, confused. He prods experimentally at his own sides to little reaction.

“Pretty much. It doesn’t work when you do it to yourself, though,” Hunk shrugs. It’s a disaffected gesture; if he thinks about it too hard, his heart will ache even more at how evident Keith’s total lack of childhood affection is.

“It only works when someone _else_ tickles you, then?”

...then Keith’s mouth ticks up in a thin line, and Hunk’s not really sure he likes what he sees. His heart speeds up, breaking into a presto rhythm when he looks over his shoulder at the only exit to the sim room and, upon turning back to Keith, finds him ten paces closer.

“Uh...haha...so tell me what I need to do for you to not follow through with this,” Hunk says nervously. He nearly trips over his own feet all the while Keith follows after him – _stalks_ after him, his brain helpfully corrects. He has to admit this is much more in line with how he’d expected Keith to be like when he’d first met him in Shiro’s holding room: smarmy and cocky and slightly smug.

“I figured it’d be rude of me not to return the favor,” Keith says. His grin grows wider and...oh, he’s somehow maneuvered himself between Hunk and the door, which Hunk realizes at precisely the same moment his back hits the cold metal of the wall behind him. The wall in the furthest corner of the room, because it’s not like Hunk doesn’t distinctly feel like prey already.

“C’mon,” Hunk whines, “I’ll cook you whatever you want for a whole week.”

No response.

“Two weeks!”

The only sound in the room is Keith’s featherlight footsteps over polished tile.

“I’ll even make those jelly donuts you like,” Hunk says desperately, pressing his back as far into the wall as physically possible.

Keith’s eyes light up, and he shrugs Score. “Sounds like a deal.”

Hunk fist pumps the air, but before he’s even let off a victorious ‘whoop!’ Keith _pounces_. Hunk’s got just enough time to scream _traitor_ before he’s tackled off his feet and Keith’s fingers are scribbling all over his sides and belly.

*

 _They’re just jokes_ , Hunk tells himself. But then why is he so upset? He knew Pidge and Lance had only been joking, but then again, he’s sure they’ve never had to deal with digs at their weight or body size before. As much as Hunk tries to turn those digs on their heads, to own the labels and have a sense of humor about it all, it still hurts.

He’s about to start a batch of late-night stress cupcakes when Pidge and Lance file into the kitchen.

Pidge clears her throat. “Sorry, Hunk. I didn’t realize that–” she shakes her head, “–I was insensitive. I won’t let it happen again.”

Hunk blinks, then the ache in his chest hurts even more. “It’s really okay, guys. Seriously, not a big deal.”

“But it’s _not_ okay,” Lance says. He hops up on the counter, and all Hunk can really think is that it’s not Keith next to him right now. “You don’t have to – I don’t know – pretend or something. You have every right to be upset at us. Going forward, we’ll try to be better.”

It’s the most serious Hunk has ever seen Lance.

“And seriously, if we say something like that again, call us out.”

“I think Keith’s already got it covered on that front,” Pidge adds helpfully.

“Keith?”

“Anyway, let’s talk more tomorrow? It feels like ages since you, me, and Pidge have hung out.”

Hunk gives a small smile. “Sure thing, guys.” And he doesn’t magically feel better about any of this, but at least it’s a genuine start.

Once Pidge has gone off to bed, Lance slides closer to Hunk. The shrewd look on his face definitely gives Hunk pause, if not encouraging him to run as fast as he can in the other direction.

“So, you and Keith, huh?”

“Me and Keith what?”

“Hey, no worries, I understand why you guys spend so much time together now, eh?” Lance nudges him in the side, which only makes Hunk more confused.

Lance blithely plows on. “He’s scary when he’s mad, though. So can you do me a solid and make sure he knows I really am sorry for saying what I did?”

“Uh, okay?”

“Thanks, bro. He’s a real keeper, huh? Real happy for you two.”

Before Hunk can even ask what he’s talking about, Lance is slipping out of the kitchen shooting Hunk his trademark finger guns.

*

“Three, two, one, _GO!_ ”

Keith and Shiro dart at each other from their respective ends of the training mat. Watching the two of them dance around each other is mesmerizing. It’s not only that their technique is impeccable, it’s that Shiro makes a vicious-looking uppercut with his fist and Keith is right there with a parry like his movements have been choreographed eons ago and his body is simply following the motions. It’s that Shiro knocks Keith clean off his feet, and before he even hits the ground, Keith pivots into some sort of bizarre twist and lands softly on the balls of his feet.

In terms of skill, they’re mostly evenly matched. Keith is more wild and unrestrained, but it’s obvious that Shiro has many more years of experience on him. And the both of them are good guys. Keith is...well, he’s Keith; and Shiro’s been around to their cooking and training sessions a couple of times. It’s obvious how much Keith respects Shiro, and Hunk can’t help but respect the hell out of him, too. He’s compassionate, understanding, humble, all of the above.

But Hunk would be lying if he said he wasn’t rooting for Keith at this point. After all the time they’ve spent together, how could he not?

Keith gives him a quick thumbs-up before diving right back in. He pivots around Shiro, then he...he slides a hand under Shiro’s arm and wiggles his fingers rapidly? And that is definitely a question. Shiro, too, looks confused. Until his face contorts in laughter. He flails blindly, and apparently that’s the opening Keith’s been looking for because he slides a finger along the seam of the prosthetic arm and Shiro absolutely loses it.

Shiro gets some distance from Keith and immediate goes on the defensive. It’s enough, though. Shiro’s off balance and a little weary from the surprise attack. Keith, on the other hand, is like a bat out of hell, more invigorated than ever.

They trade blows back and forth – fists and blade and some serious contortionist moves that blow Hunk’s mind – but Keith is fast enough that he can get in close without Shiro being able to do much about it. And Keith’s fighting style is already wildly unconventional. Shiro’s thrown off-guard by the literal tickle attacks interspersed throughout his charges.

Keith feints left, thrusting out wiggling fingers towards Shiro’s side and smirking when Shiro flinches back a good foot or three.

“What’s your play here?” Shiro grunts.

“Just thinking outside the box.” And Hunk can’t be sure, but he’s pretty positive Keith just flashed him a grin.

When Shiro finally yields, Keith lets off a deafening whoop and fist pumps the air. It’s the first time he’s ever beaten Shiro in training, so Hunk can’t really blame him.

Shiro grabs Keith’s offered hand, pulls himself up, and claps Keith on the back. “Don’t let it get to your head,” he says, but he’s smiling fondly all the same. A little more mischievously, he adds, “you can stop showing off to Hunk now. You’ve already won him over.” He says it in a whisper, but it’s very clearly meant for Hunk’s ears as well.

Keith turns about as red as his paladin armor, sputtering and spluttering and just generally gawping at Shiro.

Oh his way out, Shiro leans in close to Hunk. “He really cares about you a lot, you know. But if he steps out of line, just let me know and I’ll straighten him out.”

“I don’t...what?” He knows Keith cares about him because he also cares about Keith. But in that way? It’s not something he’s really thought about before. Certainly, it’s not a bad thing, but Shiro’s meaning is abundantly clear. If Keith really viewed him as something more than a friend...well, Hunk could easily come to reciprocate. Hell, he kind of already does. But having the option out there – knowing that if he wants it, it’s his? tThat’s wild to him. It’s a first.

Shiro slides out of the training room, whistles to himself in light of the chaos he’s unleashed on Hunk and Keith.

*

It all comes to a head in the most nondescript way possible. Namely, they’re lounging on the floor of the training room too lazy to change out of their sweaty clothes when Keith sits up.

“So…” he says, fiddling nervously with his fingers.

Hunk rolls onto his back so he can at least look at Keith, who in all honestly is kind of cute when he’s flustered. And Hunk totally doesn’t want to project, but he’s been thinking about asking Keith out on a proper date all week and he’s...fifty percent sure Keith’s been thinking the same thing.

“Dinner?” Keith asks nonchalantly.

“Yes!”

“I mean, _dinner_ dinner. Like, you know…”

“Like a date?”

Keith nods soberly.

“I’d like that,” Hunk says.

Keith visibly exhales. “Awesome. I have a surprise for you.”

Hunk grins. He doesn’t say anything, though, and he doesn’t have to. Keith grins back and flops back down onto the mat.

It feels like something imperceptible has shifted into place.

Hunk tells himself it’s just going to be another normal night tomorrow. Just another dinner with Keith. Still, he allows himself to get a _little_ excited.

He falls asleep thinking of all the recipes he can wow Keith with on their first date together.

**Author's Note:**

> check me out on [tumblr](http://st4rlabsforever.tumblr.com)
> 
> as always, comments give me life :)


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